You thought my fear of bridges as ridiculous as my fear of tunnels.How else could we cross relatively small bodies of water,you asked me.So as we drove the ugly trough of white concrete that bulged above the Choctawhatchee Bay, I stared straight ahead to the shore and focused on singing along with Sheryl Crow.
I never remember much about driving to Florida, but I remember that bay, that bridge, and the Tom Thumb at the crossroads.
You said you loved my voice, loved to hear me sing, and that I...
Published on September 22, 2016 08:00